Eau sur eau: les dictionnaires de Mallarmé, Flaubert, Bataille, Michaux, Leiris et Ponge

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Rodopi, 1997 - 172 pages
Qu'est-ce qui séduit le poète à rédiger un dictionnaire-en-poème? Que trouve-t-il intéressant son oeuvre dans le voisinage d'une pratique lexicographique? Comment la poésie en forme de dictionnaire commente-t-elle celui-ci? Que nous apprend-t-elle de la poésie? Pour la première fois dans le panorama de la critique contemporaine, Eau sur eau interroge, non le rapproche-ment de deux activités qui ont pu se croiser, mais leur étrange-ment indémêlable superposition, voire indistinction; poésie et lexicographie: eau sur eau.
A partir d'un triple positionnement des oeuvres, de Mallarmé à Ponge, vis-à-vis des questions impossibles que pose tout dictionnaire-en-poème, Christophe Lamiot travaille à affiner la notion d'un imaginaire lexical que confirmerait le hors-dictionnaire des oeuvres. Qui parle en lexicographie? Quelles relations les mots entretiennent-ils les uns avec les autres? Quelles relations, avec ce qui les dépasse aussi, peut-être? Proposition d'instruments critiques nouveaux, Eau sur eau offre de même, et souvent avec humour, un voyage inédit dans les univers secrets de Mallarmé, Flaubert, Bataille, Michaux, Leiris et Ponge, tels que la poésie lexicographique les évoque. Dis-moi comment tu définis, et je te dirai que tu es, qui tu écris...

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Contents

Introduction
1
Parody
27
Gabrielle Bersier 27
46
Parody in Salman Rushdies The Satanic Verses
67
Andreas Höfele 67
89
Parodies of Shakespeare
127
Sentimental Parody? Thoughts on the Quality of Parody
155
Tore Rem
168
Rebecca E Sammel 169
190
Mein
191
Gerlinde Ulm Sanford 191
221
Gerd K Schneider
235
Martin J Schubert 237
254
Selected Bibliography on Parody
275
The Contributors
299
Copyright

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Page 140 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them ? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...
Page 140 - That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels * bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
Page 94 - The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.
Page 140 - For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of th' unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?
Page 140 - tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life...
Page 76 - Pastiche is, like parody, the imitation of a peculiar or unique style, the wearing of a stylistic mask, speech in a dead language: but it is a neutral practice of such mimicry, without parody's ulterior motive, without the satirical impulse, without laughter, without that still latent feeling that there exists something normal compared to which what is being imitated is rather comic.
Page 140 - Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pitch and moment With this regard their currents turn awry And lose the name of action.
Page 65 - O Appetit, dein Name ist Kater! - Den Heringskopf im Maule, kletterte ich, ein pius Aeneas, aufs Dach - ich wollte hinein ins Bodenfenster! - Da geriet ich in einen Zustand, der, auf seltsame Weise mein Ich meinem Ich entfremdend, doch mein eigentliches Ich schien.
Page 128 - I shall stick to it," she continued, smiling. " I am not saying it to educate you; it is what I really think. I believe that in the last century men have developed the desire for work, and they must not starve it. It's a new desire. It goes with a great deal that's bad, but in itself it's good, and I hope that for women, too, ' not to work ' will soon become as shocking as ' not to be married ' was a hundred years ago." " I have no experience of this profound desire to which you allude,

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